


Don't You Want It

by pureklaination



Series: Year In The Life [1]
Category: Glee RPF, Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pureklaination/pseuds/pureklaination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work contains RPF, PWP and I have no further justification. If you don't like either of those, please back away slowly and press the exit button. </p><p>Beta'd by em twobirdsonesong and cheered on by gabby znks</p><p>It was written for scott (crisscobrien), as a special birthday present - hope you like it sweetheart (L) xo</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Want It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crisscobrien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisscobrien/gifts).



The PCA's were always going to be great. Darren had finally convinced his publicist that even if she didn’t stand behind him the whole night he wouldn’t make a complete dick of himself, Chris was allowed to sit less than 5 meters away and Darren had painted his toenails pink especially for the occasion. But no one needed to know that.

Strolling up the red carpet, pausing every few steps to pose for a photo with this person and that, usually cast members but occasionally VIPs Darren knew his publicist would love. Another nice change was the fact that he was free to stop and talk to people, sign autographs and no have anyone sighing wearily behind him.

He made it through the massive double entrance and into the ballroom allocated for the evening, soaking up the grandeur and ambiance with a contented and not remotely forced smile. An excited buzz under his skin like someone was playing a fiddle in his veins.

The map of seating positions was huge, outlined in silver calligraphy and fairy lights. Darren eyed it warily then skipped it completely, and headed straight for the bar; feeling more relaxed the moment the first whiskey was down and quickly ordering another. There were so many people. People important to the film industry, famous actors and actresses who had so much as made a cameo in anything, standing shoulder to shoulder in so many sequined outfits it completely spun him out.

“Well, this isn’t intense at all.” A voice spoke from next to him. He was a gorgeous brunette with a lopsided smile and holding a drink of his own. Darren recognised him, but only vaguely. He wasn’t from a FOX show or they would have met more formally ages ago.

“It’s Dylan.” He blushed adorably and Darren smiled in reply, a little unsure for all his confidence. “M-My name I mean, you’re Darren, I’ve seen you on Glee.  You’re amazing, part of the reason for this uh-” The guy, Dylan continued, pointing to his black bowtie and smiled awkwardly.

“Hi Dylan, I’m Da- you already know that. You’re on Teen Wolf aren’t you?” Darren grinned when Dylan’s eyes lit up in front of him. The guy was honestly so fucking pretty when he smiled.

Dylan’s words came out so fast they were almost running together.  Darren, a little used to fast pace by now could still barely keep up. “I can’t believe you know that - it’s not like you’re not busy. How do you even get the time to watch TV, Man?”

Darren took a quick sip from his drink and tried not to look too guilty, “Oh I haven’t-”

“Of course you haven’t had a chance to actually watch it, oh my God, and there’s so much going on we’ve been so busy filming and-” Darren held his hand up and Dylan stopped speaking mid-sentence.

“I haven’t watched all of it yet, but I have the best of intentions to finish it during my next break.  My friend, Chord, he’s like - 100% down with Teen Wolf and I have seen one full episode at least.” Darren motioned to the array of small tables near the bar, set up for exactly this reason - for stars to mingle in direct line of a bunch of a bunch of photographers but most of them were still busy ogling the red carpet arrivals. “We should sit.”

Their conversation was fast.  Darren learnt that Dylan was 22, prone to practical joking, and absolutely adored his cast mates. He seemed completely shell-shocked to even be at an event as lavish as the PCA’s.  Darren was definitely well aware of the rather undignified side of shows like this: actresses and actors alike crying or throwing things in the powder rooms (away from the paparazzi of course); upset at missing out on a practically guaranteed award or someone wearing a similar ‘look’; the hook-ups; and of course the pure amount of alcohol and the mess of the after parties.

But who was he to disillusion such starry eyes?

“Anyway, man - I should be getting back.  The ushers are-” Dylan waved a hand towards the tables, almost full now; that must have happened while they were talking.

“Of course, yeah - we should talk later though.” Darren quickly pulled his phone from the pocket of his suit, never quite willing to leave it at home, and thumbed up a new contact screen. “Put your number in and I’ll buzz you mine.”

“Are you serious?” Dylan sounded a little confused but methodically typed in his number anyway. “You don’t have to call if um, you’re busy and shit.”

“That’s crazy,” Darren said, grabbing his phone back and hitting call almost immediately. Dylan’s phone rang loudly in the obnoxiously loud room around them.  “Just a tip though, you might want to put that on silent.” With a wink he walked away, unable to resist a glance back at Dylan, who was still standing next to the table with his phone in his hand.

The lights dipped above him and Darren went to find his table, to the right and about 100 meters away.

_[Chris] Didn’t take you long._

[Darren] I’m not sure I know what you mean.

_[Chris] I mean the Doe-eyed beauty still stealing glances at you from 4 meters away._

Darren looked up, taking a little more time looking at who was seated around him. Sure enough there was Dylan, two tables over sitting with what he presumed was the rest of his cast mates. Darren smiled at him and Dylan smiled back, adding an adorable twitchy wave.

_[Chris] Oh you have no fucking idea, do you?_

[Darren] You should probably hide your phone better if you don’t want to end up on TV looking like an obnoxious shit.

_[Chris] Lol, they think you’re charming. And so does he. Watch yourself._

It had always been a bit like this after the tour with Chris. He and Darren had a quick, rebellious relationship completely hidden away from the world (but not their cast mates), and then went back to bitchy best friends. Chris didn’t like the socks on his floor and Darren didn’t like the lectures about being more responsible with his money. But there was love there, it could have just as easily been the forever kind, if Chris wanted a spectacle and Darren wanted the mansion in LA.

One day, maybe, but for now - this was perfect.

The show itself passed in a bit of a blur.  They picked up some awards and clapped politely for others, Darren walked up proudly with Chris on his arm to collect the Best Chemistry award that was rightfully theirs. He made a speech that thanked all the important people and especially Chris himself for being so wonderful to work with.

At the end, everyone piled into limos, while Chris and Darren stayed back giving interviews to a few noteworthy reporters, being a bit silly, a bit suggestive, then walking away always leaving them wondering… It’s not like they ever denied anything.

When Darren finally made it to a car he typed out a tweet, thanking Chris and their viewers for being so passionate. He noticed a little +1 in the corner and half blind with adrenalin pressed it.

_Dylan O’Brien has followed you._

Darren smiled to himself and quickly followed back, and then, knowing that there would probably be a riot in his at mentions later added a second tweet:

“Hey Dylan, it was fantastic meeting you tonight - get your claws out for a party.”

Not the most professional thing to do considering Darren himself didn’t know if Dylan’s character even had claws. But what the hell. His phone lit up with a iMessage reply almost straight after.

_{Dylan} Which party are you going too?_

[Darren] Chris said something about a Mansion on the Boulevard - so I don’t really know? The driver’s taking me there.

_{Dylan} If you mean the one at 498 we’re already there._

Darren smiled wider, looking forward to the party a little more now knowing Dylan was there.  Along with Chris and pretty much all the awesome people he got to meet while being famous. It sucked that he was in the car alone; there was no way to dull down the excitement buzzing in and around him. But a guy couldn’t have everything, right?

He was met by a chorus of people congratulating him about his award. Darren brushed it off with as much politeness as he could muster and went to say hello to the host, who was buzzing around the drinks table, before he settled in to find his group. They were all there apart from Lea, who had chosen to go home, and Naya who had gone to a different party with her fiancé. It was a shame - he would have liked to have gotten a few photos of the group together. There were so few of them around.

Darren went to refill his glass at the truly impressive bar about 40 minutes later.  He didn’t mean to keep looking at his watch, but he found it kept him grounded. He knew that he should probably head home about 4am, before the party completely wound down, or risk any photos getting included in a “Young and Drunk Actors Making Dumbasses of Themselves” spread a few days later.

“You made it,” came a voice. There was Dylan, again standing near the bar.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, man,” Darren said, taking a proffered glass in return for his empty one. “People will think we have a problem.”

Dylan laughed. “To be honest, I don’t think the press particularly care what we do here, so long as there are enough photos of people standing together smiling.” As if on cue, a photographer wearing a clear VIP Press Pass tapped Darren on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, may I?” Dylan stood off to the side a bit, clearly trying to get out of the way of the shot, “No, both of you please, Dylan.” Darren watched Dylan’s face change into that charming grin and he put an arm around him like they’d known each other for more than a few hours.

The photographer snapped a few photos, asking politely if they had any comments to add. Dylan shook his head and Darren, more than a little used to thinking on his feet, said something about how the awards night are always fantastic for meeting new friends and potential colleagues.

“Do you always say shit like that?” Dylan asked as soon as the photographer was out of earshot.

“Well, yeah, I mean-” Darren cleared his throat, “The fans are our lifeblood and let’s be honest - I wouldn’t mind running around in prosthetics pretending to kill people occasionally.”

Dylan laughed and passed his now empty cup to the barman, who still only a few paces behind them, and requesting another. “I’m pretty sure the alcohol stopped being ‘to sooth the nerves’ about 4 hours ago. I really should stop.”

Darren collected the glass from the barman a second before Dylan could and passed it to him anyway. Their fingers brushed together on the exchange. “But if you aren’t at least holding a drink, you will be forced to accept some god-awful fancy bullshit by the next person you speak to. Trust me, it’s like, in the manual or something.”

They found a couple of couches together further down the deck, still in full view of the party and surrounded by people, but a little further away from the pounding music and riotous laughter inside from people celebrating.

Dylan sat first and Darren next to him, both still cradling their glasses when one of Dylan’s cast mates came over to say their group was about ready to call it a night. Dylan didn’t look particularly upset by the news and made arrangements to see them on set on Monday. Darren checked his watch - 2am - they still had time, but he made the usual gestures about going back to what was left of his own group if Dylan wanted to leave. But Dylan shook his head and said he would get a taxi back later. Darren was pleased, but didn’t say anything about it.

Later, Chris came by, with a few people Darren didn’t recognize and a few he did, but didn’t acknowledge. He tactfully bid his goodbyes and left it at that, sitting back down with Dylan and continuing on the flow of their conversation, which had strayed to the most time they had ever spent in make-up.

“This one time, I had to go in and pretend to be a different character - it was totally inception-y - because he was me, well, Blaine and I was Blaine, but pretending to Puck, and they put this bald cap over my hair and it took hours but it was so much fun.” Flushed and still bubbling over with excitement Darren stopped to breathe, looking at Dylan, who still smiling and sitting so far forward that their knees were touching now.

“That’s awesome, dude - I could talk about this all night.”

Darren thought about it and looked at his watch. It was getting close to 3.30am and his house was completely empty. But mostly he could definitely go some food.

“We could - go back to mine, if you want?” He probably should have phrased it to sound better than a lame pick-up line but hey, whatever.

“Really, Darren that would be awesome. You could show me some of the pictures from the tour.” Dylan stood quickly, looked a little dazed for a moment then straightened up. “Too much to drink.” He stated and walked back to the bar, this time coming back with two bottles of water and a ticket.

“The drivers are a bit tied up for the next ten or so but someone will be ready shortly apparently.  We should wait out the front.”

Darren nodded and put his glass down on the table near the door; they waited for their jackets then slipped out the front door. Everyone else must have left earlier and not said goodbye because the table they had been seated at was empty.

“Rude.”

“What?” Dylan asked, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“The others left without saying goodbye - rude.” Darren replied making his way down the stairs and pulling out his phone. Sure enough there was a message from Jenna saying that they’d gone but would meet for brunch on set on Monday.

Thank God someone had the foresight to plan these events for weekends. There’s no way Darren would be making it into work tomorrow.

The drive was quick.  Darren’s house wasn’t that far out of the main city, and being that it was almost for o’clock in the morning, roads were deserted. They made it to the house and Darren pulled his key out of the false bottom of a very realistic looking flowerpot. “Aren’t you worried that some crazed fan will find that and use it to get into your house?” Dylan asked, lowering his voice now that the night was dark and quiet around them.

“Not really? I only ever leave it out when I’m going to come back drunk. I’m more worried that I’ll lose my key and have to call someone out again to open the door. Been there.” He flicked the key in the lock and opened the door, running a palm down the left of the doorframe to activate the lights.

“Wow, sweet, this place is beautiful.” Dylan said, running a finger across the soft material of the couch. “I bet it cost a small fortune.”

Darren closed the door behind them and put his key in the little bowl beside the front door, “Yeah, a bit, but it was worth it to have a proper home close to the studio, you know? I couldn’t spend another night in a trailer. Well - I could have, but I didn’t want to.”

Dylan was adorably flushed now, leaning up against the counter like he just realised they were alone in Darren’s house, “Can’t blame you for that - a few more seasons and I should be able to have something like this too.”

“You want a beer?” Darren asked, opening the fridge and looking at its depressing contents. “There’s never enough food here though.”

“Do you have anything a little less…Alcoholic?”

“I have water and Diet Coke.” Luckily, there were still a few bottles and cans tucked away in case of social calls at odd hours. Who knew when Chris would drop in these days?  Darren shook his head. Now was not the time.

“I’ll take a Diet Coke - if that’s okay.” Dylan was still leaning casually beside the counter, “It’s nice to be a little more in control of my facilities.”

Darren laughed. “After a night like this, you’re lucky to still even have facilities.”

They walked over to the couch in the next room, Dylan still looking around with wide eyes at the sheer amount of memorabilia on Darren’s walls. Deciding against turning on the TV, Darren sat and popped his own can of soda, he didn’t often drink it, not liking the fuzzy feeling it left on his teeth hours later.

“So…?” Dylan said, relaxing back into the couch and putting his can down. “Where were we?”

Darren wracked his brain, “I don’t even remember.”

“Well, we should talk about something else then.” Dylan replied, smirking a little - or maybe that was just his mouth.

“Okay, what would you suggest?”

Dylan grabbed his soda from the table then sat back again. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

Darren raised an eyebrow curiously, “Not anything exclusive at the moment. Dating can be kind of hard.”

“I can imagine. What with all your crazy fangirls throwing themselves at you.”

Scoffing and laughing at the same time Darren was sure he sounded like a complete lunatic. “No way, the only way I even get close to someone is to meet them at parties.” Careful with his pronouns, always careful.

“You do that a lot too,” Dylan said, looking carefully at the lid of his drink. “Not specify who you get close to.”

“Anyone really,” Darren said with a shrug, quickly backtracking when he thought about how that must have sounded. “Well, not anyone but just- I’m not concerned about who but mostly I just want to be able to get have a good conversation, you know?” Then adding, as an afterthought. “Dating is hard.”

Nodding, Dylan finally looked up and straight at Darren, his brown eyes sparkling in the lamplight. “Dating, yes. Still not quite what I was going for...”

“You may have to be more specific in your questioning then.” Darren said, unable to suppress a cheeky half wink.

Dylan coughed a little, choking on the mouthful of drink he had been trying to swallow, then he carefully wiped a sleeve across his mouth. “Like, guys.”

“Yes, I’ve liked guys.” Said Darren, more than a little amused at the turn the conversation had taken.

“And how many have you brought home at 4 in the morning, completely unable to resist your charismatic nature?” Dylan asked with a curious look.

“Honestly? Not as many as you would think. Two maximum - and even then I’m not sure they couldn’t resist my charismatic nature.” Darren replied.

“I can’t.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Good to know.”

“Is that it?”

“No.”

“No?”

Darren leaned over, brushing a hand over Dylan’s on the couch and looking at him closely. “Do _you_ want more?”

“Yes,” breathed Dylan, close enough that Darren could taste his it, tinged with alcohol and Coke.

“For sure?” Darren asked again.  He’d been down this road before and it lead to some super-awkward morning afters.

“Definitely.”

They sat staring at each other closely for a few more seconds; Darren could feel the anticipation bubbling under his skin. This was so not where he had thought the evening would go, but being a Friday, he could at least take comfort in the fact that his housecleaner would have made the bed this morning.

Finally, leaning just a few more centimetres in, he felt Dylan’s lips touch his own, quickly and nowhere near enough, but warm and soft a hint at everything that it could be. Darren pulled back just for a moment, checking the look on Dylan’s face (still a bit pursed and flushed) and moved back in with a hand at his neck, running a palm along the skin at the base of his neck.

“Wow, you’re really good at this,” Dylan muttered into his mouth, leaving his lips open and pliable.

“Thanks,” replied Darren, moving down and across to run his lips along Dylan’s neck and nipping a bit at the skin there. He tasted a little salty; a different cologne than Darren was used too, but it was nice, if a bit muskier.

He’d forgotten what making out on the couch was like, how uncomfortable fighting with clothing – especially suits – was in heat of the moment. Even though he’d asked Dylan what he wanted, there was a certain amount of trepidation moving it to the bedroom. What if he was only looking for a quick experimental make out and ready to bail straight after, or if getting comfortable just made the make-out awkward?

“Do you mind if I lose the jacket?” Dylan asked softly. “I feel like a teenager again on the couch.”

To which Darren blurted out without a single thought for tact, “So you’ve done this before?”

Dylan pulled back a little and looked into his eyes, “Well yes, you weren’t expecting a virgin were you? I’d hate to disappoint, but-”

“No, no, it’s just I was thinking that we could move this elsewhere? Like my bed.” 100% thinking with his dick.

“Okay, yes, that’ll work.” Then again, maybe it wouldn’t take any heat out of the moment.

Darren stood up from the couch, toed off his shoes and slipped off his jacket simultaneously.

“Enthusiastic are we?” Dylan smirked up at him from the couch where he was idly undoing his shoelaces.

“Can you really blame me?”

“Just come here so I can get my fucking mouth on you already.” Well okay.

Darren raised his hand to undo his bowtie but was met by a cool shake of the head from Dylan, “Nope, just get us to the bedroom and we’ll get the clothes off after.”

“You’re surprisingly bossy, has anyone ever told you that?”

Dylan smiled smugly. “Maybe, but I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I see how it is.” Darren walked past Dylan back through the kitchen to the hallway and through the third door to the right, flicking on the lights.

“This is your room?” Dylan asked, looking around and very obviously trying not to be distracted by the amount of _things_ Darren felt the need to keep near him while he slept: framed sheet music for a few of his songs; a huge stack of extra pillows and blankets (he liked to be warm and snuggly so what?); and the box of magazine articles his mother kept sending over. But hey, at least the bed was made.

“Come here.” Just like that the mood shifted to something a more serious. Dylan came within reaching distance and Darren held out his hand to lead him to the bed. Luckily, most of the alcohol had worn off and he was a little more in control of his reflexes.

Darren sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Dylan down to straddle his legs to look at him. Really look at him - the plains of his face, the little cluster of moles on his cheeks and his semi-spiked hair. He looked like a teenager who belonged in some boy band, probably Five if Darren was going into specifics. He wasn’t.

Instead, Darren tugged at the bowtie in front of him, pulling it loose and undoing the knot. Dylan was breathing a little hard by the time he was finished, so he took his time undoing the first few buttons on his shirt and pulling Dylan close enough to trace his mouth along the now exposed neck in front of him.

Dylan shivered and Darren pulled him in higher, closer, enough to finish undoing the rest of the buttons and pull the white shirt out of his trousers. His was covered in goose bumps, specifically where Darren was tracing a finger down his chest, enjoying watching the completely subconscious reaction.

“Feeling a little exposed here.” Dylan muttered looking pretty much anywhere except Darren’s face.

Darren trailed his hand back up to Dylan’s chin, guiding him forward to his mouth. This kiss was more languid, their lips gliding together. He licked along the seam of Dylan’s mouth, then in, tracing the line of his tongue. When they pulled apart, both were flushed and their lips shiny, breathing heavily together.

When Dylan’s hands roamed underneath his jacket, Darren let himself get lost in it; that innocent exploration of his back and the warmth radiating from hands roaming everywhere.  The newness of someone else pulling his and tugging at the material closest to his lower back. Dylan’s mouth was back on his in an instant, his hands pushing Darren’s jacket back and fiddling with the top buttons. 

“Well, fuck this,” Dylan said quietly, under his breath, the next time they stopped to breathe, pulling hard at Darren’s bowtie until it was undone. His shirt was tugged over his head a minute later and joined the rest of the clothing littering the floor. Probably breaking a few of the buttons.

Finally, Darren pulled Dylan up and flush against him, and he revelled in every single spot their skin met.  He was a little sweaty now and he ran his hands around to Dylan’s back from top to bottom a few times, then settled into the dip of it, massaging it. He wanted to just rip his pants off and get on with it, but he was too caught up in the grinding of a hard dick against his through four layers of material.

Dylan shivered again, trying to use his body weight to force Darren down onto his back and not disrupt the rhythmic thrusts of his hips at the same time.

Darren smiled against his mouth, tapping Dylan’s hip to get him to move up a bit. Groaning in frustration, Dylan rose up to his knees, cock hard and distinct through the fabric of his pants. Darren took the opportunity to slide back a bit, lifting his ass off the bed and gasping a little at the friction from his pants getting caught and pulled taut at the motion.

Dylan smiled, bringing his hands down to Darren’s chest while he got re-situated, and then using them to hold himself above Darren. Their abdomens pressed flush together, but Dylan held his hips up just out of friction reach.

Whining loudly, Darren pulled on the pockets of Dylan’s pants with the intention of well- more grinding really.

“Who’s bossy now?” Dylan asked with a smile, “Hang on a second.”  He lifted himself up onto his knees, Darren laying back completely trapped underneath him and pulled off Darren’s red socks.

“You have pink toenails.” Stated Dylan, looking behind himself and at Darren’s feet.

“Yeah I-” Darren started to respond.

Dylan cut in with a quick, “No, that’s okay. No explanation necessary. We’ll just roll with it.” He deftly undid Darren’s belt and pushed the pants down unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, they’re not going anywhere without the button and fly,” Darren added unhelpfully.

“Darren, why the hell do you even wear a belt?” Dylan asked, undoing the button and pulling the zipper fairly gently considering the circumstances.

“It went with the outfit.”

“And the pink nail polish?”

“Yes”

Dylan “hmm’d” in response, rubbing his hands along Darren’s still covered thighs and lifting his own legs up and over to one side to work them off completely. In the process, he pushed his pants and belt down in one move, wiggling them off while kneeling beside Darren.

It was a smooth move and Darren was thinking he’d completely underestimated Dylan’s agility, but then holy shit the guy was only in red briefs underneath and that was enough of a distraction.

Darren pulled Dylan completely ungracefully on top of him and their mouths back together, Darren’s rather modest in comparison black boxer-briefs were held almost an inch higher than normal due to the straining erection underneath. He could feel the heavy and hot shaft of his own cock twitching in response to the man all over him.

Dylan had a few inches on him, which ordinarily would bother Darren a little, but it lined them up perfectly, with Dylan back on top of him where he belonged, at least for now.

Logistics defeated him, but when Dylan finally lowered his hips )and god his _ass_ )back to Darren’s cock, the fact that his cock was bound tight in the red underwear was Darren’s every dream come true. Because his dick was lower, less restricted in movement and with just one thrust forward Darren’s cock rested neatly against Dylan’s ass, through their underwear.

Unsure whether to curse every deity he didn’t believe in, or cry with the amazing relief of having Dylan’s whole body weight pushing deftly back on his dick, Darren placed his hands firmly on the guy’s hips and ground upwards. Just a little more and they would be fucking, he could feel the tip of his cock sliding up into the giving point of Dylan’s ass and it felt like absolute heaven to be surrounded there.

“You can, you know … if you want. I usually – I’m used to, um -it.” Dylan stuttered the sentence out without ever pausing in his movements. Little by little they ground together, Darren’s precome smoothing the way to almost pushing through Dylan’s obviously very tight muscles.

“You’ve never fucked a guy?” Ha, what tact?

“I’ve had sex with guys.” It was almost defensive. “We’ve been through this.”

Darren stopped his hips and pushed up on Dylan’s chest, silently requesting he move up all the way into sitting again. Placing a quick kiss on his lips, Darren - careful not to jostle anything too much for fear of completely losing it - got up to his knees and nodded towards the pillows at the head of the bed. “Lay down.”

Dylan did, with an interested gleam in his eye while Darren arranged himself forward and lowered his ass to Dylan’s cock, grinding downwards until they were almost in exactly the same position as before, except reversed.

“Do you want it?” Darren asked quietly in Dylan’s ear, laying kisses at his neck there, now wet with sweat and saliva. “Do you want to know what it feels like? The tightest, hottest thing you’ve ever had around your cock?”

Dylan didn’t reply with anything more than a sharp intake of breath, so Darren continued. “Or would you prefer my mouth? What’s your weakness, O’Brien?”

“Both.”

“Okay.” Darren agreed quietly. “But I’m not finished until your cock is in my ass, whether you come now or later, understood?”

Dylan nodded and Darren stopped his hips to pull away with a sigh at leaving that sensation behind.  He kissed down Dylan’s neck, to his collarbone and further down to his stomach.  Darren ran his tongue down the defined dent of his hips while his hands pulled the offensive red briefs off and over Dylan’s feet.

Darren looked up long enough to see Dylan’s back arch off the bed in an effort to help him,

apparently. He took pity on the obviously wrecked form below him and sucked the tip of Dylan’s cock into his mouth. Dylan arched again, but Darren was expecting it, and took as much as he could before holding Dylan firmly back to the bed. These sheets would be ruined in the morning. How little he cared.

Darren had only just barely gotten into a rhythm of taking the cock deeply every three or four thrusts when Dylan pulled roughly at his hair. He looked up casually, his mouth still full, and he used his tongue to guide it once around the circle of his throat and in _hard._ That move took so much practice it was nice to see someone truly appreciating it.

“Stop now please, come here now, please yes,” Dylan panted the words out while releasing Darren’s hair and crashing completely backward on the pillows behind him.

Darren gave one last lick and crawled back up the bed. “Good manners for someone having his dick sucked, Dylan. No need to be quite that appreciative; you’re hot as fuck.”

Dylan cleared his throat then winced as his cock twitched clearly up. “Do you have lube? Pass it here.”

Darren smiled and unhooked his leg long enough to reach into the bedside draw and get the supplies. “There.”

Dylan reached around with his eyes clearly closed in concentration, breathing deeply. He beckoned with a grabby hand motion for Darren to come back into kissing distance and they arranged themselves sideways with Darren’s leg hitched over Dylan’s.

Darren’s underwear was still on, surprisingly, and Dylan gave the most put-out pout until they were on the floor with everything else.

“Right so,” Dylan shuddered. “This part’s a bit new to me.”

“It’s okay,” Darren replied assuredly. “I can if you want.”

“No, I want to feel _you._ ”

Dylan grimaced a bit at the cold bottle of lube in his hand, poured some onto his fingers and rubbed it around between them to warm it up while taking a deep breath.

“Hey,” Darren brought their mouths together in an almost chaste kiss. “It’s _okay._ ”

Dylan nodded again, completely lost in their kisses, and Darren felt the back of his warm hand on the inside of this thigh. He braced himself for the rather uncomfortable first glide in but was pleasantly rewarded with Dylan’s finger working itself between his cheeks, thrusting between and rather expertly spreading the lube around first. It was a moment between Dylan’s teeth sinking into his shoulder and finally feeling pressure exactly where he wanted it.

Faster through the aftershocks of Dylan licking and sucking over the teeth indentations he’d left on Darren and carefully adding a second finger to glide alongside the first.

Darren felt the build suddenly through the haze of shocking want coursing through his veins and he kissed Dylan to get his attention, moving his hips to the side.

“Now.”

“Okay. How d’you want…?“

“Lay down on your back.”

It seemed natural to go back to straddling Dylan, who lay back comfortably against the pillows. Darren grabbed the condom from the side of the bed and unwrapped it while looking at Dylan directly. This could easily be the unsexiest part of fucking anyone, but he’d learned a few tricks.

“Now, I’m going to put this on you, then I’m going to fucking ride you like this is the last chance I’ll ever get, okay?” By that time the condom was in place and Darren grabbed the lube bottle to slick everything up with more than just sweat.  The air in the room thick with arousal.

Darren sat completely, letting Dylan’s dick trail along between his cheeks, and enjoying watching Dylan’s chest expand and contract with how amazing it was to have anything, really, stroking at your cock when you’ve been hard and messing around for _hours_. Darren let Dylan’s cock catch on the rim of his hole once, twice, and then fucked his hips forward to line them up properly. Back up onto his knees and reaching behind himself, Darren stroked Dylan’s cock up, taking a moment to trail his hand back a bit further and massage at his balls just for that added moment of anticipation.

Then he moved back again to the tip of Dylan’s dick, lining them up and sinking down what couldn’t have been more than an inch and hovering there, not for him, but for the look on Dylan’s face. He was biting at his lip, arms locked down at Darren’s thighs and every muscle in his body was raised up and tense. He was absolutely fucking beautiful like this.  Darren sunk down completely until Dylan’s balls brushed his rim.

Groaning loudly, Darren raised himself up a few inches then straight back down again. That stretching fullness he could feel right down to his bones and that first moment of penetration completely fucking blew his mind. Darren’s vision swam when he finally opened his eyes, not from tears, but from finally having his prostate pulled and the sliding pressure of the veins in Dylan’s cock. He could feel all of it and probably could have come in half a second if he had focused properly. Instead, he leaned forward and down to Dylan’s mouth, still red from being held between teeth for so long and placed a slow kiss there, grinding his hips forward in the process.

Dylan moaned long and low beneath him and Darren took that as a sign to continue, raising his hips up and down as methodically as he could while trying to fend of his own orgasm. In a last ditch effort to hold off the inevitable, Darren put his hand around his cock and held while continuing the quick drop raise rhythm they had together.

“Darren, I can’t wait any longer.” Dylan motioned for Darren to take his hand off of his own cock and wrapped his own long fingers around it with purpose. Thirty seconds later, Darren felt Dylan’s hand lose any and all finesse and loosen around him while his body rocked with tremors below him, lost in that perfect moment of bliss pre-orgasm.

When everything felt like exactly the right kind of pressure and nothing could stop an oncoming freight train while it barrels at full speed, while every single muscle freezes tight and solid and he hovered on the edge of the highest precipice available and then the drop. Body tingling with aftershocks and the only sound he could possibly make is a loud groan while Dylan half-heartedly fucked him through it, before oversensitivity took over.

Darren ached as he raised himself off of Dylan completely, disposing of the condom discreetly and flopping down on the bed beside him. They should clean up. Really, after that mess and the party beforehand, they should shower and change the sheets, but they do neither.  Instead, they chose to trade lazy kisses until sleepiness took over and the first lights of dawn stream in through the high bay windows in Darren’s room.

They didn’t get up and out of bed until well after midday, but then there was coffee and the best hot bath _ever_ , definitely made better by the unexpected company. Later that evening, when Darren kissed Dylan good bye on the front step, he asked about seeing each other again, only to be met with a cheeky smile from Dylan. “What you haven’t seen enough of me?”

“Never.” Darren replied.

 


End file.
